


'cause you said forever (now i drive alone past your street)

by far2late



Series: drivers licence [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Clay | Dream Needs A Hug, Crack Treated Seriously, DreamSMP Grocery Store AU, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecure Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Misunderstandings, Modern Era, Prequel, Protective GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Wilbur Soot, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Smoking, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Underage Smoking, at the end tho, i wrote this in one night take my offering of peace, no beta i never beta ever, or hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:53:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28809180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/far2late/pseuds/far2late
Summary: "Dream had tried the rollerskates George loved so much once and decided it was harder than skating by a long shot. Barely any surface area to land tricks and the lack of a center of balance made his ego feel weakened by the blow to his morale. He remembered Sapnap laughing at him, laughing along back then, too.The memories were bittersweet, and he had resolved not to think about them anymore when his eyes starting burning due to something besides the cold.It had been a year, at least. A year since he had fought with the two and fucked everything up for himself. A year since he had gotten kicked out, fired, and accused of cheating on his girlfriend in a week. A year since his life had been ruined and he had gone homeless. It was something he had never seen coming, despite the jokes that he and the others had constantly made about each other and their failing grades."orthe jokes about dream being homeless hold a bit of weight.orthe prequel to my interpretation of the grocery store au.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Luke | Punz, Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude, Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) & Everyone
Series: drivers licence [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112129
Comments: 65
Kudos: 330





	'cause you said forever (now i drive alone past your street)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [getouttamyswamp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/getouttamyswamp/gifts).
  * Inspired by [DreamSMP Grocery Store AU headcannons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28393056) by [getouttamyswamp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/getouttamyswamp/pseuds/getouttamyswamp). 



> my twt is far2early :)

It’s cold. 

It’s always cold for Dream, nowadays. The days drag on so slowly that sometimes the teen wondered if it would be better for him to spend the majority of them passed out rather than awake. It’s certainly safer to sleep during the day than during nights most of the time, anyway. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that he didn’t feel very safe in his current state. 

He kicked up rocks as he walked, feet bumping against the pavement as his bandaged feet slipped themselves properly into scuffed boots that were weathered beyond use, at least a few years old from a first glance. They were meant to last at least three years, from the brand and how trustworthy it was, but Dream found them failing after at least five, reaching his sixth at the time he had them now. It was a bittersweet reminder of everything that he missed from a year ago when everything was simpler. 

The teen scowled, shaking his head before pulling his hood up higher and hoisting his bag over his shoulder, slipping his other arm into the loop when he stopped caring about his appearance. It was easier to pretend to be a high school student when the weight of his bag didn’t expose his bones and skin-tight against his ribs every time it sagged down and pushed against his hoodie. Dream was used to the usual way of figuring things out now, finding himself a skateboard a while ago to make things easier for himself. It was hard to keep a hold of it, but he was glad he swiped it all that time ago. 

It was from the skate park that he, George, and Sapnap had gone to before they had fallen out with him, long days and nights spent there, goofing off with each other. It was something that he liked to do with all three of them gathered, finding himself goofing off with tricks he already knew to gather a laugh out of the other two. Sapnap had always shown up with a different skateboard, alternating between at least five that he had gathered up over the years that he was slowly fixing up. George was the dumb fucker who brought rollerskates to the park, though he always managed to make it look nice regardless. 

Dream had tried the rollerskates George loved so much once and decided it was harder than skating by a long shot. Barely any surface area to land tricks and the lack of a center of balance made his ego feel weakened by the blow to his morale. He remembered Sapnap laughing at him, laughing along back then, too. 

The memories were bittersweet, and he had resolved not to think about them anymore when his eyes starting burning due to something besides the cold. 

It had been a year, at least. A year since he had fought with the two and fucked everything up for himself. A year since he had gotten kicked out, fired, and accused of cheating on his girlfriend in a week. A year since his life had been ruined and he had gone homeless. It was something he had never seen coming, despite the jokes that he and the others had constantly made about each other and their failing grades. 

Dream wasn’t even sure how everything fell together in such a way that made it possible for all of those terrible things to coincide in such a short time, but it was criminal in the way that it had ended up fucking up his friendships when he needed them the most. It was something stupid that the group of them fought about, anyway, something that he hadn’t even thought was a big deal at the time. He had been making a few jokes which they had apparently been uncomfortable with. Now, with a clear head and regret, he had conceded they were in the right then. But at the time, everything seemed to be crashing down around it with no stopping, and one thing led to another before the group of them were screaming at each other. 

Sapnap made jabs about Dream’s parents hating him. Dream spat at George about how no one really liked him. George snapped about people using Dream to further their guilt complexes. The insults got worse and worse and worse until it was hard to remember who it was that had said what made all three of them go silent. Dream had left before he could figure out what the hell had just happened, forgetting to bring up the fact that he needed a place to stay. Forgetting that he needed his friends more than ever, and if he had just folded, then everything would have been fine. 

Now he was on his own, and not even his other friends would speak to him. He remembered going to Bad’s with a tear-stained face and being rejected with something close to regret on his face. The process was repeated with Ant and then Callahan, of all people. They seemed to have heard the news from Sapnap and George quickly, and the group of them all being teens, as they were, didn’t stop to think for a bit longer. 

Dream left with an aching heart and abandoned his home, neighbourhood, and school. If he was going to be homeless, he wasn’t going to hang around where his friends could see him and do… something. He didn’t want to know what the more anger-prone of their group would end up doing. He knew that Wilbur had been enraged on behalf of George and Sapnap, from what he had heard before he had cut off contact with pretty much everyone that he had known. 

His phone had long since been left alone, deleting social media off of it so he didn’t need to worry about catching stray messages from his friends confronting him about the meltdown that had been their friend group a year ago. It was always a possibility that he was scared of, and he didn’t have much time for social media, either. The most he had ended up doing was downloading TikTok to keep up with what had been going on, Twitter installed as well in the case that he find another organization near him helping the homeless out that someone would have retweeted when he needed.

There was no need for posting, no need for interacting. His users were numbers and his profiles were blank. It would be virtually impossible for anyone to find him, paired with the fact that he had blocked all of his friends as well, just for good measure. It had been done about two weeks into his newfound introduction to homelessness, done through tears in an abandoned home, sitting in a bathtub as he listened to gunshots rattle off far-away in the distance. 

What Dream had never realized about being homeless was just how terrifying it was to be lonely. At the same time, it was boring. There were risks at night, there always were. He learned the hard way that it was always so much colder in the late of the night than in the afternoons, finding it easier to sleep in public libraries during the day and staying up all night. It was inconvenient, but the only thing he could find that would work for him. 

The librarian at the small place that he stayed at was fond of him as well, so that was a plus. He had volunteered there for a while in the hopes that he would have been promoted to a job and eventually save up money to get a motel or anything close to a shelter that wasn’t public to everyone that wanted to fuck with him. Mrs. Beech had been a great boss throughout the experience, eventually paying him something close to five dollars an hour. With his whole day cleared, he almost always had enough money to get himself a good meal at the end of the week, saving up to get a haul that would last him longer than a night. 

He found it easier to ration when he had everything for a week laid out in front of him rather than buying everything in one night. It was easier to resist the urge to get cheap cigarettes as well. (At least, in the beginning.) 

Unfortunately, about three months into his kind-of internship with Mrs. Beech, he had been disappointed to find that she had gone into retirement, and her son, who was decidedly not very fond of him, had taken over the business in her stead. He quickly found himself migrating to a new part of town at that point, making his first big move of the year. 

It had been scary the first time around, the teen being absolutely terrified of the implications that came with going somewhere he wasn’t at all familiar with. He had gone out at least a little farther than he usually did, but Dream hadn’t fully left the neighbourhood he had been raised in, either. It was just easier to stay somewhere that had been familiar with him and not have to worry about getting lost or finding out that where he was staying was a bad part of town because he knew what it was like from experience. 

He had to, though, because that library was the only place he could get any income and the rest of the area only had high-end shops at the mall that didn’t want to take in a teen that looked homeless. Which was funny, because he was homeless. It was more depressing if he was honest to himself, but he didn’t want to be honest with himself, so he left it at that. 

His fourth month had mostly consisted of him travelling, walking on the sides of highways and taking public transit where he could. It was always crowded and he almost always had to sneak on with a group of people to go into the middle of nowhere to start himself a new sort-of life, but it was almost always worth it in the end, as well. There was always something relaxing that Dream found in the fact that he could just drift off on the bus without worry since he never had a destination in the first place. It was his second favourite place to get some shut-eye free of consequences. His bag had always been tucked by his feet, and no one was ballsy enough to try and steal in broad daylight. 

Of course, by this point, Dream was practically nocturnal, so it didn’t matter that much to him. He had quickly found another public library to hang around in, a larger one this time that had been much easier to hide in. It was something of a blessing that this one wasn’t family-owned, really. Less nepotism in the workplace, even if he hadn’t been able to land himself a paying job there. 

That had quickly led to his second problem, which hadn’t been much of one until the fourth month. Money was hard to get where he was, and despite how he had fallen from grace, Dream didn’t want to have to resort to begging on the streets for money. He understood why others did it, far more now than he had before, but the idea had made him uncomfortable, at least to think about him, personally doing it. In his mind, it made everything just a bit too real for him to handle with a straight mind. 

Thinking too much about this was something he didn’t want to do. He didn’t want to think about how he went from being safe and warm and happy to someone who had been cold and alone and spiteful and had panic attacks almost every hour of the day in the span of a few months. It felt pathetic. It felt like everything he had ever done was something insignificant and all he was destined to have was a lifetime of pain and hurt for betraying his friends when he hadn’t even meant to in the first place. 

* * *

It was easy enough, wandering into a bar at least five months into his homelessness. 

He had adapted to the usual things that would come with being in his situation for the most part. Dream had learned the etiquette that came with communicating with people in the same situation as him, which was mostly consisted of not talking to them much at all unless he needed a quick place to crash and his usual spots were taken or he hadn’t gotten enough sleep at the library to get him through the day. 

The bar was just something that he had happened to come across on one of his excursions throughout the new area he was considering moving to, finding little work where he was that had been willing to employ him for longer than a few weeks at a time. It was getting exhausting, forcing himself to adapt to new schedules that never worked with each other and ending up messing up his sleeping schedule even more in the process. 

It wasn’t a very fun time. 

On an impulse, he had entered the bar that he came across, finding himself walking straight in unprompted. It was a small, rundown place compared to the ones he was used to back in the area he lived at. Everything was much more official there, and it seemed far too easy for him to just walk in without being stopped by security or anyone who thought that he looked far too homeless to be let in, let alone pay for anything there. 

When he entered the main area, it was easy to see why he wasn’t questioned. With the rundown look came the people who were attracted to it, most of them dressed similarly, if not worse than he was. Dream was ashamed to find that he was relieved by that development, whether or not it was offensive to the people in the same situation as him. He couldn’t find it in himself to care that much as he shuffled over to an empty table near the back, sitting himself down to slump over the table. He was delighted to find an outlet under the table that he plugged his phone into before tucking it into his backpack and squeezing it between his legs tightly. He shook out his hair, pulled his hood over his head, and close his eyes to rest his head on his arms. 

It was a welcome feeling, the soreness in them alleviated just by the action. It had been bugging him all day, especially with the stinging cold of winter fading into spring. It was an awkward transition in weather that the teen never found himself noticing before experiencing it firsthand in a situation where he wouldn’t need to focus on much else besides the basics. 

It was something geeky that Wilbur would be interested in, Dream found himself thinking with a quiet snort of amusement, tired as it was when he had made the noise. It took more effort than it should have and he found himself wishing that he was anywhere but a dingy bar in the middle of nowhere where everything was confusing and new and nothing like his warm neighbourhood of orderly apartment buildings in random clumps. 

He was shaken awake by the sound of something being set down on the table in front of him, looking up as a waitress set the drink down in front of him. She gave him a half-smile as a beer was pushed to him. 

“Some guy in all black ordered it for you.” Upon the look that he gave her, she clarified a little, standing up straighter though her voice was lower. “He didn’t get the chance to slip anything in. Didn’t leave my vision all the way here.” 

Dream blinked once, nodding automatically as the woman walked away. That wasn’t even close to what he thought he would hear that night, but he took the drink anyway. He sat up a bit from where he was sitting, looking around to see if he could find anyone in all black. It was a bit off-putting to find that most everyone around him had been wearing all black, so the hint wasn’t helpful at all. 

He took a sip of the drink nonetheless, not wanting to leave behind a free chance at something of a meal, stomach grumbling as he took the first sip. Dream hadn’t drunk that much at all if he was honest with himself. The most that he would have was wine at Christmas parties at his parent’s parties. It sounded juvenile to him, so the teen never brought it up that much, but it wasn’t that much of a stretch to say that he wasn’t used to beer or anything heavy at all. He could only assume he was a lightweight, having never been drunk a day in his life. 

It was a warm drink, though, and the weight of it slipping down his tongue was more relieving than it was scary because for the first time in a long while, he had finally felt something other than cold and betrayal and loneliness that would eat up at his insides with a terrifying sense of motivation. 

His answer on who had bought him the drink came a couple of minutes later, or at least what he thought had been a couple of minutes. Dream had gotten through at least a third of his drink slowly, feeling more and more tired as he went through it before a man had slipped into the other side of the table he was seated at. The teen didn’t even notice him at first, revelling in the feeling of a warm buzz in his bones that made him feel light and fuzzy. 

“Hey,” The voice across him called, Dream looking up from where he was bent over the drink with half-lidded eyes. The man across him laughed a bit at his state, tilting his head to the side. 

“Wow, you’re really a lightweight, huh?” The man asked, more rhetorically than not. Dream found himself nodding, despite his mind yelling at him not to. The voice that he was accustomed to being his common sense had slipped down into nothing but a quiet murmur that tickled the back of his brain occasionally. He didn’t know how much time had passed and he wasn’t curious. All he knew was that someone was willing to talk to him and he wasn’t going to give away the chance now. 

“Don’ drink much,” Dream said, forcing his voice out of a mumble. The man across him laughed in a seemingly fond way, nodding along at the words. 

“I can see that,” He said, amused. Dream didn’t pick up on his tone, humming to himself as he took another slow sip from the drink. It was quiet in the back corner of the bar, and he didn’t protest much as the man moved from across the table to sit next to him. The most he did was turn to angle his body to face the man. 

“What’s your name?” The man asked, answering his own question first. “Mine’s Jax.” 

“Cool name,” Dream said absently, nodding before finding himself enamoured with the way it made his head feel and repeating it for too long before stopping and continuing with the greeting. “I’m… I am Drea...m.”

The answer came out and Dream hadn’t wanted it to, surprisingly enough. He found himself frowning to himself a moment later. Jax seemed to have noticed, frowning as well. 

“What, do you not like your name or something? It’s a beautiful name,” He insisted, leaning in a little closer to Dream. The teen shook his head, shifting back as the man moved forward. 

“No, not… Not tha-t. Just didn’t… hmm.” Dream didn’t finish his sentence, looking away to take another sip of his drink. It was comforting at this point, something to avoid the strangely uncomfortable interaction. The teen chalked it up to the fact that he hadn’t spoken to anyone in quite a while now. Jax only laughed at this, throwing an arm around Dream. 

“You’re so cute,” He said, a grin on his face as he pulled Dream closer to him. The teen squirmed a bit under his grip before realizing just how much he had missed the warmth of another human around him and something even close to how his friends had been. It was strangely emotional, and he found himself with tears in his eyes as he tried to sniff them back. 

Jax either didn’t notice or didn’t care, either of the two applying as he shook Dream slightly. “I know I bought you that drink, and I know you probably don’t want to pay for it! That’s totally cool, but I do want a little something in return, you get what I mean?” 

Dream, in fact, did not get what he meant. He was at least three steps behind the conversation, revelling in the fact that for the first time in five months, someone had willingly wanted to be near him without shouting at him or paying him to do things for them. The conversation wasn’t clicking in his head, neither was the offer until the same waitress from earlier had come back from where he has seen the bar. 

Her face darkened as she approached the last table, pace quickening until she had reached it and slammed her tray down on the table, startling the two of them as Dream had started sliding out of the bar table. 

“What the _hell_ are you doing back here, James? Didn’t we kick you out ages ago? Quit harassing the kids and get outta here,” She hissed, the man’s eyes narrowing back as he turned to Dream in an attempt to salvage the situation. 

“C’mon, don’t listen to this crazy lady. Just come with me and you can stay over for-” He was cut off by the woman grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him away from the table physically, calling over for security that had been made up of by one slim, muscular man. He looked like he would have been on a swim team.

The waitress turned back to Dream a moment later, anger off of her face as she grew concerned, seeing the state of the teen. She cursed under her breath, taking the drink away from him as she peered into it. 

“Did he drug you or something?” She demanded, looking up. Dream shook his head loosely, finding himself feeling like his head was falling off as he did so. 

“Jus’a lightweight. Was first time drinkin’ a beer,” The teen informed her, watching her eyes narrow in something akin to suspicion or horror. Dream couldn’t figure it out, leaning back against the cushioning seats of the seats. 

“How old are you?” She questioned. Dream snorted a bit at the inquiry, looking up to the dark ceiling as he thought back on it. His last birthday was… he celebrated with Sapnap and George, a while ago. It had been a while, if he counted up, then-

“Oh,” Dream whispered, mood dropping significantly. “My birthday was a- a week.... week ago. Seven’een. Withou’ my friends there.” 

His face crumbled and Dream shook slightly as he buried his face in his hands, wiping at tears that had been building up for nearly five months. The panic attacks were near-daily, but the situation had never clocked in the way it had just now. It felt like a shock to his system to remember just how long it had been since he had seen his friends and how long it had been since any of them cared for him. 

And maybe it was stupid, but it was one of the only years he hadn’t spent the special day with Sapnap, George, Bad, Ant, Punz, and the rest of his friends that he was so used to. It hit him how lonely he had become in his long time away from the rest of his friends and family. He missed his parents and his sister and his home and his cat. Dream missed his backyard with stupid wood fences and a little barbecue and he missed Sapnap’s apartment with birds living in their balcony. He missed the skate park and his skateboard and George’s rollerskates. 

He missed so _much,_ but he was so scared of going back. He didn’t think he could find his way back and all he wanted was a hug and he had nearly gotten kidnapped. 

The waitress didn’t seem at all ready to confront the sobbing seventeen-year-old who sat in a booth alone, curled around his backpack with a sloppy-put away phone charger in his backpack. He could vaguely hear comforting words that he ignored in favour of trying to catch his breath and failing time and time again. The corner was secluded enough for no one to notice him, but the bar was empty enough for the waitress not to have anywhere to go. 

Dream could feel her hand patting his back gently in an attempt to get him to calm down and the touch felt like it had started a fire in his limbs that he couldn’t put out if he had genuinely tried. He didn’t want to put it out, he just wanted someone to care without pitying him. 

He could tell the waitress didn’t know what was going on, despite his jumbled storytelling that had spilled from his lipids unbidden. The teen kept rambling on and on, getting distracted by tears and other stories that he needed to add and more and more until he gave up, dried of tears and of words to describe his pain. 

Despite the worry from the woman. he left the bar as dawn was touching the buildings at the edges of their glass windows. Dream didn’t look back, wiping his lips as he fought the urge to throw up and sober up by dunking his head in a vat of water. 

He quickly took a bus far, far away. It wasn’t worth staying. 

* * *

Various months spent repeating this pattern landed him all across the city, never realizing just how big it had been. 

He had been to a very large mall at one point, getting lost in it with just how big it was. There were a lot of benches, however, and it was easy to pretend that he had been a tired shopper who had taken the chance to sit down and rest his legs. It was a lot easier to fake a lot of things when he was in a group of people, despite how hard it had seemed at the beginning of his big adventure. Dream thought it was a bit disingenuous to call it an adventure, but he didn’t want to think of it as what it was. 

It was something like that trip that Wilbur had been planning ages ago, Dream rationalized with himself. There was practically no difference between what they were doing, save for the fact that Wilbur would be staying in Air BNB’s while Dream was making it by the skin of his nose, barely avoiding crashing in an alleyway once a week. If he was lucky, it was only once a month, but more often than not, he had the chance to get rest in another public place. 

It was surprisingly easy to hide out in museums, he had found. If he had hung out in the bathroom after hours and waited until everyone left before leaving, he could easily avoid just about everyone by sneaking through the large building. It got too nervewracking after about three days, however, so he ditched the strategy quick enough, leaving that part of town once more. 

Ever since his excursion at the bar, he had been less caring for his own physical state, as concerning as it sounded on paper. Dream just didn’t care enough to uphold laws that he couldn’t follow. Every time he had enough money to grab himself some food, which only lasted about a day now, he had gotten himself a lighter and a couple of boxes of cigarettes to go along with it. It was a luxury he couldn’t afford but one that he had gotten used to having after a month. It was rare that he didn’t smoke at least once a night after about three months of this continued pattern. 

In the back of his mind, he knew that his friends would be disappointed with him. Dream didn’t find it in himself to care enough about displeasing them to drop the habit. At this point, it was one of the only things keeping him sane. It was a coping mechanism, and healthy or not, he wasn’t going to let it go for the sake of friends he had abandoned a long time ago. 

The story of how everything had gone down was getting confusing in his head, despite how it had burned through his mind for the first few months he had been in the streets. Sometimes he couldn’t remember if it had been just his fault, or if George and Sapnap kicked him out laughing. It was hard to shift between putting the blame on himself or his friends. Both of them felt so wrong but he had to choose one to come to terms with the fight that had ruined his life. 

It was depressing to think about the fact that he had basically ruined his life over a few jokes in bad taste. 

He didn’t care as much that he was away from his parents, though. They had never been the best to him, leaving him with more bruises than smiles and more pain than he could imagine in place of a childhood that was supposed to leave him happy rather than rotting in an alleyway in his own vomit and cigarettes. Such came with borderline abusive parenting, but he would rather forget it than focus on it. 

Dream found himself wanting to forget a lot of things in an attempt to even pretend to be okay with what was happening. He had at least accepted that what was happening now was fucked up and he hated it with all his heart. He hated having to scrounge for money and save for food and coin laundry and worry about all his shit being stolen. He hated the fact that he had to save up for a duffle bag that he was constantly paranoid would be stolen. 

He hated the fact that he practically had a nicotine addiction, that alcohol was tempting to him, that he had let someone beat the shit out of him for a place to stay for a night and not being able to walk for nearly two days afterwards. Dream hated everything, he hated himself and what he had become and how pathetic he felt in the situation he was in now. 

He hated the fact that everything would have been fine if he didn’t make a couple of jokes at his friends’ expense that he hadn’t realized had been affecting them badly. Dream hated that it was all his fault he was where he was. 

With this in mind, it was even easier to want to let himself just give up where he was now. It had been nearly a year of everything that had happened. He hadn’t contacted his friends, despite the hours he would spend debating calling just one of them in a desperate cry for help. It had taken everything in him to stop himself from calling Bad just to crash for a night.

Dream didn’t want to bother anyone, and he didn’t want anyone finding him. But he missed them. It was hard finding out what he wanted at all, nowadays. 

The teen got distracted as he heard the sound of an intercom go over the library he had been napping in, looking up at the voice from the ceiling instinctively. 

_“Attention to all, the library will be closing in ten minutes. Please check out your books and make your leave.”_ Dream stood up tiredly, getting to his feet to sling his bag over his shoulders, duffle bag hanging off of the left one. His right hand picked up his phone from where it had been charging, shoving it in one of the many pockets of the jacket he had gotten off of a homeless shelter early in the day. 

It was quite a warm bomber jacket that he resolved never to take off, despite how dirty the black material got. It was one of the only nice things he had and he didn’t want to get rid of it the same way he had accidentally lost his socks in the coin laundry. That had been a depressing day, and the teen had to rely on wrapping his feet with bandages just to keep them somewhat clean when he shoved them in his dirtied boots that had been soaked time and time again in muddy water. The last thing he wanted was his toes to fall off or something because he was an idiot. 

As Dream left, he pulled the hood to his sweater up, zipping up the jacket in front of it before pulling up the jacket’s hood as well. It was warm in the current weather, being somewhere around the end of August with the seasons fading into fall once more. It was strange, thinking about how he had been in his room complaining to the ceiling a year ago today. 

He quickly shook the thought off, leaving to wander down the streets for a couple of hours before he could go back to the library to make himself something of a resume. Dream was lacking in the job department at the moment, and the convenience store near here didn’t need much prior experience, nor did it need a high school diploma that he didn’t have. 

Dream had the urge to drag himself out of homelessness and at least get himself an apartment, but it was so _hard._ The system was practically built against homeless people, which he wouldn’t be surprised if it was. He recalled Punz saying how much he hated the statement ‘Just save for a house,’ when it came to homeless people, but he found a newfound hatred for it when it was applied to his situation. 

He didn’t have a diploma and couldn’t work in most places as a result. He had no address, so he had no bank account. All his money was stored in his backpack and the bottom of his boots on the rare occasion he would find a job willing to pay him without a check, which didn’t happen often. Most of his meals were more than half of what his money was used for and saving was near-impossible. It would have made Dream cry if he hadn’t slowly gotten used to it. 

That and how he ignored his tears nowadays. He was convinced that he had toughened up. 

His mind snapped back into reality as he heard shouting from nearby an alleyway. His first instinct was to speedwalk past it, not wanting to deal with it at all. Dream had no business trying to be a hero when he could hardly take care of himself in the first place. It was just something he had to accept, the teen told himself. 

The defence crumbled in his mind as he turned back, hiding his bags behind a cluster of trashcans in an alleyway just across that one before sprinting across the road where he heard the feminine scream from. Dream’s vision became clearer as he entered the dark space, fist raised to punch the man who had pinned a girl against the brick of the alleyway. 

At the violent interruption, the girl screamed again, this time running at the first chance she got, crying. The man had yelped, grasping at his cheek as he looked up to Dream, who stood panting in the middle of the alley. He almost instantly regretted the action as a knife became clear in his vision. Dream scrambled to leave as quickly as possible before a shout interrupted him, followed by a tackle. 

“You _fucker!_ ” The man shouted, Dream fighting to turn over and push the man off of him. He was larger, though, and disgusting with sweaty palms and a bodyweight that pushed down his lean, malnourished one. Despite the disadvantage, Dream shouted, squirming beneath the man and raising a knee to hit him between the legs. 

“ _Get off me!_ ” He shouted, fighting to push the man away as his hands scrambled for the knife he had dropped in his tackle. The fight was loud and angry, shouting punctuating it as people stayed away from that side of the street. Dream eventually pushed the man off of him, moving backwards with his arms before feeling a stab through his abdomen and gasping out in pain, jolting forward. 

The man in front of him looked much more triumphant all of a sudden, getting up from where he stood, mouth open and ready to crow before looking past him and pausing. Dream watched him turn tail and run not a moment later, breathing out shakily as he felt adrenaline pump through his veins. 

_He couldn’t stay here_ , was the only thought that had flooded through Dream’s mind. He took it in stride, struggling to his feet as he staggered, one hand pressed against the wall as the other held a tight plug over his wound. He could feel the warm liquid seeping through his fingers in the process, making him want to throw up when he remembered what it was. 

The teen turned slowly, stumbling out of the alley slowly as he ignored the small clumps of people that dotted the streets. Upon further inspection, he probably would’ve noticed it was just one, but it didn’t click in his mind. All that mattered was getting away from where he was and getting to his things in the alley opposite to the one he just got stabbed in. 

The last thought was mostly hysterical in nature, and not in a good way. 

The streets were nearly entirely empty, save for a car far off. He could probably make it through the road before it would run him over. Dream didn’t account for the fact that he wasn’t thinking very clearly, sluggishly making his way through the road as his footsteps slowed more and more. 

The headlights came closer and Dream struggled to keep himself from throwing himself in front of the car and killing himself the way he had wanted to since this nightmare had begun. 

Maybe it would wake him up from this horrid dream, the teen thought delusionally, stopping where he was on the road as the car came closer. He swayed slightly, leaning over to hold himself up via one hand on his knee. It would be worth it if he died anyway, and if everything hadn’t been a bad dream in the first place. He didn’t want this anymore, he didn’t. 

Dream blacked out before he could figure out if the car ran him over, faintly hearing horns and shouting in the background as he fell to the pavement. A small smile was on his face as he embraced what would have been his death. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi i wrote this all in one night take ur angst dream stans. i will make part two so soon, mayb tomorrow. depends on motivation for homework. enjoy 6kword fic. ignore no updat eon techno. take <3 
> 
> i burnout on techno do mot ask me mean questions 
> 
> i love u tell me what u think i appreciate so much :)))) i read comments when i wake up it is 4:30 am


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